Sep 6, 2007 | Writing |
Since moving closer to relatives, they tend to come visit more often. This isn't a bad thing, but it sure does mean I don't get anything but the barest of essentials done. It's the darned Southern hostess gene. The gene that dictates you must see to your guests' comfort at all times, that you must accomodate their wishes and be available to fix them nice lunches or big dinners every day.
I can't work too well with people in my house. I feel guilty, like I'm ignoring them, even when they don't seem to require my attention at that moment. It's easier, as an uncontracted writer, to drop everything and go take care of them. And then there's the cycle of guilt that comes from that, from knowing that a real writer wouldn't drop a thing to make sure his or her father-in-law has his coffee at the crack of dawn every day.
But, the two week cycle of company is over for now (and we had a blast with our first guest, the very self-sufficient and always fun Mark who posts here on occasion — though he did drag me to a botanical garden in high 90 degree heat). I have to reorient my brain to work. Today's lunch with Problem Child should help me think writing again. And this weekend, Heart of Dixie has a big writing workshop that I'm looking forward to.
What's on your writing plate these days? Getting lots done, or trying to dig out from the post-holiday malaise?
Aug 13, 2007 | Writing |
Making the rounds today, I popped over to JA Konrath's blog where he had a post about pride. Joe always manages to say something interesting. I loved this snippet:
While no one likes a braggart or a boaster, and being around someone who talks about themselves constantly is a major bore, I believe that many writers became writers because of a need to show off. After all, it takes a large ego to write words down on paper and believe that others will not only enjoy them, but pay you for the privilege of reading them.
I'd never quite thought about it that way. Do I have a big ego? Do I write because I want to show off? It's possible, sure. I bet there are a lot of people who will object. Who will say, “No, I write because I love it” or “I write because I can't do anything else” or “I write for me.”
Well, I can't do anything else either. Believe me, I've tried. I don't enjoy the elses and I'd really, really prefer someone pay me to write so I can do it exclusively.
I also write because I love it and I write to entertain myself. But I damn sure want the check and I want other people to read what I write and to want more of it.
It's funny how this post got me to thinking about being a show off. I'm an introvert, like many writers, and yet I absolutely love it when I do something well and someone compliments me on it. I was fiercely competitive in my academic career — not against others, but simply against myself. I had to get the A, had to get the kudos. Life simply would not be complete (I thought) if I didn't make Phi Kappa Phi.
All the A's and honor societies in the world haven't made much of a difference in my post-academic life. But I had to have them.
So now it's writing. I really don't think of myself as having a big ego. I'm pretty easy going. I love it when my CP likes something I've written, though, and I guess there could be a big ol' monster lurking inside who believes that others will too.
Do you think it takes a large ego to write? Or does it take a large ego to want to share the writing? Is one different from the other? It's certainly something to ponder, especially for the introverts who like to stay holed up all day and can't imagine having to get dressed and go network for the sake of their words. Hmmm.
Aug 10, 2007 | Life, Writing |
So last night, at 2:17 AM, my hubby's cell phone rings. He finally manages to realize it's ringing, to grope for it on the nightstand, and to answer it. Finally, he says, “You have a wrong number.” What happens next is kind of funny. I can't hear what the person is saying, but hubby says, “Yes you do. I'm not him.”
Person argues.
“Do too.”
More arguing.
“Do too.”
And, finally, “Goodbye.”
By now, I have to use the facilities. When I return, the phone rings again. I hit ignore and silent. It keeps ringing for AN HOUR. Not that I hear anything, but I can see the face light up again and again, even though I've turned it over. Then I hear the ding of a text message. And another one. Finally, after laying there and getting more and more pissed that someone can't understand they have the wrong number, I fall asleep.
This morning, there were 11 missed calls, two unrepeatable text messages to the effect that she hoped his sorry ass was enjoying the b*tch he was cheating with, and two voice messages that indicated a high level of either drug or alcohol induced rage. Whoever this guy is, his sorry *ss is in BIG trouble. Home girl is going to tear him a new one. In fact, I wonder if I'll see something on the news later about it.
It's funny, but sad too. This woman was pissed off and venting her rage. Yet, she was venting it to the wrong person. I wonder if her boyfriend/husband/whatever was really out cheating or if it's all a big mistake. At any rate, she thinks she told him off good, but she didn't. She told my husband off. Her man has no idea she's out to get him.
So have you ever been the victim of mistaken identity? Was it funny or scary? Could you see potential plot ideas in it?
Aug 2, 2007 | Writing |
I realized last night that I have a problem. One I simply must push past. When I know bad things are coming, in a book or a movie or a tv show, I don't want to watch it. I don't want to continue, even when it's a cliffhanger. For example, hubby loves The West Wing (if you haven't watched WW, then a mild spoiler is coming — be aware!). We came to it late, so we've been watching it on DVD, and we just ended Season 4 about a month ago. This is where Bartlet's daughter is kidnapped. Most people would just be dying to get to Season 5, to find out what happens.
Not me. I resisted his efforts to get me to watch the next episode until last night. And of course I loved it! I loved the resolution to the crisis, the way all these characters work together, the way the story is always told so well.
So why do I resist when I know it will be good? Maybe I'm afraid it won't be good, that somehow they'll disappoint me. Or maybe I'm afraid that something worse will happen and I just don't want to know. But if I have this trouble with well-crafted stories, both print and visual, how am I to know that I'm capable of doing bad things, really bad things, to my own characters?
I think I can, but then last night I got to thinking about it when I was resisting and finally caving on WW. Why do I want to avoid the bad stuff? Do I do it when I write? Do I make bad things happen, but not bad enough? Do I need to look deeper, think harder, and make it worse?
Am I the only person with this kind of wacky problem? Do you have trouble watching the bad parts of television shows, or reading beyond the first really bad thing in a book?
I guess maybe the lesson here is that when I'm writing, I know I have to watch for this. I know I have to look doubly hard at the bad stuff and make sure it's bad enough. Maybe it's good to know I have this issue.
What about you? Do you have something to watch out for in your writing?
Jul 31, 2007 | Writing |
I've explored this subject before, last year when I was living in Hawaii and experienced a series of regular power outages in my neighborhood. I have a laptop, so it wasn't the electricity by itself that sent me to Starbucks. It was coffee (can't brew without electricity) and the laptop battery (uh, don't mention the Alphasmart — I know, I know). I'd always thought writing in Starbucks would be difficult. The music, the customers, the movement all around me.
It wasn't difficult at all. Pop the headphones in to listen to my own choice of music, sip the macchiato, fire up the laptop, and type. Worked just fine, especially when I couldn't check my email or blog.
So fast forward a year. I'm living in Alabama and I have a gigantic room all to myself. Bookshelves, internet, desk, daybed. A view. Lots of peace and quiet. And I'm seriously considering packing up and heading to a coffee shop.
My hubby looked at me like I was a nut when I mentioned this the other day. I'm no longer sitting on the couch with laptop and writing, like in Hawaii. I have an office to myself. (I had an office in Hawaii, but it had frosted jalousie windows and I hated that I couldn't see. Felt like I was in a shower all day, so I moved to the LR.)
And I DO feel nuts for considering it. This room is what I wanted! It's all mine, ready to go, perfect for long sessions at the computer. But, you see, there's laundry downstairs. And there's a junk room where everything we unpacked but didn't know where to put just yet is still waiting for me to sort through. And there are two needy cats who regularly interrupt me with meowing, loud and frightening noises (did they break the lamp? Oh heck, must go see!), and begging.
So, I end up thinking it would just be easier to remove those distractions. Best way to do that is to not be in the house. There was a discussion on one of my loops the other day about this issue. Some folks write in their jammies all day long. Others have day jobs and write when they can — before or after work, while on the subway, etc. And some get dressed and go to a cafe.
Hemingway wrote in cafes, but not just there. He actually rented an apartment (when he could afford it) to use strictly as an office, getting up, getting dressed, leaving his wife and child in their shared apartment in Paris and going to his office apt.
(Okay, just NOW, there was a loud noise from downstairs. Cat knocked over a picture that hasn't been hung yet, but didn't break the glass — he has broken the glass on another picture before this one. So, have to run downstairs, determine noise, pick things up, lock cat up. Meanwhile other cat shows up and tries to get into my coffee which is sitting on the desk. This is why Hemingway rented a separate apartment.)
While I consider packing up and heading out, I feel guilty about it. But I also think it may be necessary, at least from time to time, in order to clear out the cobwebs and get something moving. And now I'm asking you, where do you write? Do you find a quiet corner of the house, have a great big office, hunch in a closet, write on a train, or head for the nearest cafe?
Let me know, because I'm very interested in how this works for you and if you'd do something differently if you could.
Jul 24, 2007 | Writing |
I've decided not to be too obsessive about the blog anymore, so posting every single day is probably a thing of the past. Unless I find something really interesting that I have to talk about. Today, I found it at Bookends LLC:
What I think is that there are very few amazing and original ideas out there. The truth is that most of you are writing from a box of ideas, and what really matters when writing your book is the execution. I’ve seen a thousand different cozy mysteries and hundreds of vampire submissions. None of these are really new ideas. What makes a book dance for me (and for editors) is the execution.
Agent Jessica Faust talks about Idea versus Execution and how the ARC of a manuscript she was reading echoed a manuscript she'd rejected. Have you ever had that eerie feeling that you've read something before, but you can't put your finger on it? I sure have.
Still, how do we handle this as writers? Everyone says that no two writers will write the same idea the same way, and I agree, but have you ever known anyone who was rejected because an editor or agent just took on a similar manuscript? It happens all the time.
Jessica says we are writing from a box of ideas. I find that somehow frightening and comforting too. Sometimes, I see the blurb for a book and think, “Wow, how'd they come up with that idea?” And then I wonder why my idea machine doesn't work that way. Sometimes, I think I'm not creative at all.
I think the box of ideas is like Jung's collective unconscious, though. Ideas are floating like messages in a bottle and any one of us can pluck them out of the sea. But the messages aren't unique. It's what you do with the message that makes your idea different.
On the other hand, are there some people who go beyond the box or the collective unconscious and tap into something truly extraordinary? How about J.K. Rowling? Where did that woman come up with muggles and flue powder and stuff like that?
But isn't Harry Potter the manifestation of the archetypal hero? His journey follows Campbell's mythic steps, and there are echoes of popular myth and archetype throughout the stories. Yet it's Rowling's clever presentation of her ideas that keeps us enthralled, no matter that Harry Potter and Odysseus, for example, essentially share the same path.
And that's what Jessica Faust is talking about.
